A New Kind of Story
by Ema Marsel
Summary: It started as it always started on the tongues of gossips, but in fact Harry has returned to the wizarding world after a long self-exile. How will he adjust to the changes around him, and how with those around him accept his changes...


**No I don't own Harry Potter, it belongs to the fabulous J.K Rowiling, although I do not forgive her for epilogue on the last book.**

It started as it always started on the tongues of gossips.

Harry Potter had been spotted again, not as to the typical rumors such as in the tea leaves and crystal balls of a seer, or the glimpse among the population of a random magical suburb that caused the whispers to circulate and a round of magical news causing the world to fall back into a disarray of finding the boy who lived to only disappear.

But this rumor had a bit more stock then the last gossips that circulated through nearly the last decade. He was spotted apparating into the halls of Hogwarts, a feat that had not been accomplished since the dark times. He was too be carrying a body, and moving quickly first to the hospital wing while then flying down flights of stairs to the belly of the castle. Whispers of bellows and shouting could be heard in opposite areas of the castle.

The rumors continued to with the spotting of the boy who lived in the floors of Saint Mungos demanding the help. But as Hermione read over the pages of The Daily Prophet, she could only her heart and soul steeling itself for yet another round of Potter-Verse. A phrase that was coined by the editors of the news world, a phrase that capitalized on the gossip surrounding Harry Potter. She shoved the pages away in disgust, not able to take the vibrant green eyes staring into hers each time she shifted the pages.

It was the knock on the door that didn't shock her that day; it would have been the absence of the knock that would have caused her to eat her words. She shuffled to the door, tightening the thin blue dressing robe around her body. It was one of her favorite pieces of muggle come magical clothing designed on her ex-sister in law. The knock comes once more and it has a harder persistent wrap that causes Hermione to stand in front the wooden slab separating her solitude with her ex-husband and all the chaotic drama he brought with his body.

"Hermione, please, I know you are in." His voice pleaded through the barrier.

"How?" Her voice wobbly, completely opposite to her outer exterior was given away by the break in her voice.

"Your car is parked in the drive, love." His voice soft and picking up on the waiving tone. "And I know you." The metal of the lock slid in her hand tempting to turn away from the entire door pushed by the annoying pet name he knew to drop when she was drowning in sadness. But her fingers lingered on the lock knowing that even though their marriage was no longer, and the split was amicable, their love for Harry was binding for life.

So she flipped the lock, muttered a few counter courses as she gripped her wand, and felt as the wards on her house melt away from existence. With one last pause, she gave a tug to the door handle and saw the older face of Ronald Weasley. The man she once fancied, believed she loved, but now felt only a familial love for as he stood in her door way.

"Well come in," She offered moving aside and taking in her musk as he passed by strongly and moved into the large living area.

"I see the place is coming along yeah?" Ron said surveying the home they once shared. It had been a space that had been purchased on impulse by Ron, and after the burden of the responsibility he shirked for a lifetime, he escaped with the excuse of riding a broomstick. It had been a 'fixer upper' when he first found it, wanting to surprise Hermione with the privacy of a home, and the cottage like feel of the two story picturesque home. The words fixer and upper had been the key words in the sales pitch, and magic was not enough to fix the boiling resentment that began to stew when Ron presented the house keys to Hermione. Springing a large surprise was Ron's idea of a romantic gesture, but all Hermione could see was the impulse and selfishness from the exchange. But focusing on the past only caused Hermione to stew.

"Yeah." Hermione said glancing around at the living room. The coming along was the new couch she purchased over fourteen months ago, and the new color of paint gracing the walls for the last four years. But Ron wasn't much for details in her mind.

"So how have you been?" He asked. He recognized the dark circles around her eyes, and the mussed hair but he was really just trying to make conversation. It had been a few months since the last time the couple exchanged news and it didn't concern the pleasantries of their individual lives.

"I-"She paused for a moment. "I have been fine." Hermione said pulling the robe tighter to her frame, with light blue coat hugging her body. "I've been fine Ron."

"That's good." He moved further into the space and sitting on the couch that never belonged to him. If he had been around to help pick out the couch, he would have preferred something not so deep and most likely leather. This was deep, wide enough to take a comfortable nap, but not so wide to call it a bed. It was microfiber and a creamy color. Completely Hermione.

"Ron, what are you doing here?" She finally asked. She usually could fake a conversation typically, but at the moment she was not in the mood. "You aren't here to check in on me, so let's get to it shall we?"

She caught the darkening to his eyes for a moment and her fingers made a slide along her wand, but distinctively stayed her hand from grabbing the wood. "I need to have an excuse-

"Oh bollocks, come out with it, I saw the Prophet. The only time you come to see me besides concerning Rose is when the Potter-Verse news cycle begins." She accused knowing full well he was about to burst. The sparks had flicked from his wand tip as if it was a cup running over.

"Alright, bloody hell Hermione no need to cut a man off at the ankles." He snapped trying to breathe out his frustrations. "I just wanted to check to see if you put any stock in this round of rumors. I mean two sightings at one time has never happened before. And they both speculated he was looking for help. St. Mungos and the hospital wing of Hogwarts. It's quick interesting."

"I don't know what I to think." Hermione said calmly. Truly her interests were piqued but she didn't want to dwell to close in case it was just speculation and another hint of happiness died away yet again. "Why does it matter what I think anyhow?" She asked glancing to Ron.

"I figured if anyone were to hear from him-

"Ronald Weasley, you only stopped over here was to check if I was the first place Harry would turn to, so you could what?" Hermione asked stilling herself for yet another argument that would ensue. She knew he had been skeptical of Harry and Hermione's relationship from the beginning. The beginning whenever that was, their first few years at Hogwarts, or during their hunt for the Horocruxes. Plus, she was afraid his true reasoning to search her home, "What were you hoping to catch Harry so you could be the first to tell the tale of finding the boy who lived?"

There was the nail that she hit directly on the head. His face started and fell all within the same five seconds. "No." He tried to affirm with conviction but they both knew his true endeavors were to capitalize on the story. It had been a hard road for the youngest Weasley son since the fall of Voldemort and the disappearance of Harry Potter.

"Then what did you figure Ronald?" She noticed when she was either perturbed or on the edge of yelling she began to use his full name rather than the shortened term. Her eyes sharpened on his frame as he toed the dark blue rug.

"I figured that if there was any stock to the rumors and Harry did return, you would be the one he would go to see." Ron said his eyes burning into the carpet; the ability to look into Hermione's eyes was not in question. It was not lost the dramatic exactness of Ron's statement. To say Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley left on okay terms was a severe understatement.

"He was just as mad at me as he was with you when he left." Hermione said fingering the soft cotton of the robe. They both had made a decision that given a second chance they would possibly do over. "But I can see your point. And no, he isn't here."

Ron sighed and stood up from the couch. "It sure is funny how we all turned out." He moved back down the corridor past Hermione and glanced at a group picture of Ron, Hermione and Rose. "Such a happy time. Look I know it's not my weekend with Rose but I got tickets to a benefit qudditch game that supports a children's health fund. Most of the cousins are going and Dad wanted to see if Rose could come along."

"I think she would like that, all she has is a riding lesson that I can reschedule." Hermione said moving to the hallway calendar that kept their daughter's schedule. It was packed full of magical activities and muggle activities. Hermione wanted to give Rose as balanced of a life style as possible. "Yeah, it works out well because her sleep-over with her playmate Nettie fell though. This will give me something to distract her from getting upset."

"Nettie? I thought Rose did not like her anymore." Ron asked. Hermione gave a long sigh, the friendships of a six year old was as hard to follow as advanced arithmancy in common Greek tongue. The color of one's headband was grounds to stop being friends with another but if said girl could be eating a peanut butter and grape jelly the next day for lunch and they two would be best friends again.

To say the least it was frustrating and tiring to follow.

"She shared her pudding cup with the Rose and they were best mates again." Hermione said and caught the smirk on her ex-husbands face. "But yet the girl has the weakest immune system ever, I swear she is catching something every other day. Or her mother claims she does."

"She always was a bit peaky." Ron said shrugging. "But anyway, I will come collect her in the mid-morning. Mum wanted to provide lunch before we all go to the match and ruin our appetites. We have George to thank for going overboard with Victorie at her first quidditch match and causing her to boot all over mum's flowerbed."

"Ron she was seven!" Hermione exclaimed. "Your brother stuffed her full of sugar, sugar and more sugar."

"Well she could have stopped." Ron muttered but smiled through the soft banter the two were still capable of sharing. It took a few years to get to a comfortable relationship again. The pair had split up just after Rose's third birthday, but both were very committed to being full time parents though the majority of the time Rose lived with her mother due to the travelling schedule Ron had for his quidditch matches and training schedule. "So well, thanks for letting me take Rose would it be okay if she stayed the night? I know Fluer was possibility wanting to do a cousins night stay camping out among the stars."

"That would be fine." Hermione said, realizing the pair was in the awkward stages of the conversation. There were still kinks of how to manage a conversation especially after ending a heated discussion. "It will give me a night off."

"Yeah a night to what is that phrase your dad always said, let your hair loose, fly freely?" Ron asked messing up the muggle phrase.

"Let my hair down." Hermione corrected.

"Sure what-ever. But you can do that." Ron said, gave a once more glance over the house as if the check for sort of clues, remainders of life, or the strangest hint of displacement.

He gave her an unceremonious peck on her cheek, muttered a farewell and left the confines of the house, a house he had wished to call home but never gave it the chance.

It was four hours later and it was just after Hermione had finished putting her daughter to bed for the final time. There was the first round of books to read, drink to get, and then a kiss on the head. Then the second round that consisted of a bathroom break, another book and a second kiss. Finally the third round was a call out about how the room was too dark, and Hermione was proceed into the room, light one of her daughter's favorite luminaria with the emanating glow of her special blue burning flames. It they would cause a carousel of shadows to dance across her walls and ceiling, one more kiss and Hermione would shut the door tight, knowing full well by the time she released the handle, Rose would be sleeping soundly in her bed.

She had returned from her play-date with her cousin's Molly and Lucy to find her mother cooking her favorite dinner and the smell of her favorite cookies in the air. This was Hermione's way to battle the possibility of a tantrum. Typically Rose was the calmest and most sincere of children, almost border lining precocious to the point that Hermione nearly had her tested for normalcy, but she was going through the worst phase. A phase, all of the mothers with children in her family assured it was just a phase it would soon pass. All mothers except for Molly Weasley, who confided in Hermione over coffee, that Ron seemed to dip back into the face at least a week.

So this was her coping method for the phase. The phase consisted of the slightest mood swing could be prompted by any movement. The hair tie not being the right color, tying her shoes the wrong way, and one day she wrapped her daughter's sandwich in a ziplock bag with a blue line across it. Really it was ridiculous but she was battling through with a smile and a calm face wading through each tantrum. The hardest part was Rose seemed to only throw fits with Hermione because she was strict parent; so while she buckled down on homework and responsibility, Ron got to be the happy go lucky big kid parent. He was fun where Hermione was not.

But she took the news rather well, Hermione could see the tips of her daughter's ears start to redden but when she whipped out the new plans for the next day, Rose calmed went about to eating her dinner and talk to her mother about the day.

But now with Rose in bed, a glass of wine in her hand and a stack of work documents she needed to peruse before the start of next week. But her mind kept tracking with the newspaper she burnt earlier that day. The shred of green eyes was still looking up at her from underneath of coffee table, as if they were trying to catch her attention through the glass surface.

Anger pitted deep within her stomach made her reach for her wand and sent a start to make the scrap of paper dance with a force of her magic soaring through her wand. She thought for a moment wondering if Harry's eyes were still vibrant, and of if his eyes were still alive with light. Still dancing under her coffee table as it danced among the magic his eyes captivated her attention and it was captured on paper.

She wondered about his life time to time, if he had married or settled down with some witch or muggle on his journey away from the public eye. She wanted to know if he thought about her as much as she thought about him but with him missing she would never know.

About the whispers and sighting of Harry, always caused her to wonder more about her dearly departed friend made the muscles in her heart constrict a bit, but she had to push past yet another round of open excitement because she didn't have the lifestyle to invest her emotions and desires on a foolhardy gossip.

But it was curious to say the least. Harry Potter sighted twice on the same day, within hours of each other, and typically if a rumor generated from Hogwarts was a slightly embellished truth. So there could be grounds of a sighting of Harry and then again at St. Mungos. It was also inquisitive that he was seeking immediate magical healing attention. She could only discern that either he was incredibly hurt, or needing some sort of magical attention.

She was deep in thought that she didn't notice the probe on the wards of the magical defenses surrounding her house and grounds. Hermione lived on the side of caution at all times, especially with a young child in the house that she would put up the wards whenever she was not expecting any more visitors. It was the equivalent of a muggle alarm system. She was notified whenever it was breached, or when the person didn't have access to cross her wards. It would just be a prick, the touch of a tickle or a breath on her skin. The alert would continue to grow more incessant and with a more alarming pain. At the point now it was if she was being kicked in the shin to recognize that someone was trying to get into her house.

And by feeling the type of prick it was not simply one individual. It was at least two magical cores, so she stood up from the couch and walked across the room to the front door with her wand tightly wound in her fingers. There was another attack on the wards so she threw open the door and waved away her dis-concealer charm but no one emerged. Her heart began to beat harder realizing that either there was something wrong with her the setup of her charms and spells or the person trying to approach was a stronger which for her charm.

Or even an invincibility cloak.

"Harry?" She called out into the dark patch. "Harry, I know you are out there, you are the only one that could get past my wards on the house. One being the dis-concealing charm. So come out now."

She was feeling ridiculous standing on her stoop calling out to the empty space on her stares. Hermione was hoping all of her neighbors were either sleeping, or not in visible distance. She reached out into the distance reaching for the silky material.

She grasped the silvery liquid fabric between her fingers, and gave a gentle tug to slowly disrobe the boy standing on her front step, looking like he had aged over the years but still resembled the Harry she once called a best friend. The curly black hair, the black frame glasses his emerald green eyes. But he also seemed different. Gone were the days of a youthful face, harden from the years passing. Harry appeared taller and his expression on his face was not that of a frown or happy smile.

The other major difference between this Harry and the one of the past is the toddler girl clutched in his hands snuggled into his shoulder and tears rolling down her eyes. A half-hearted smile graced his face.

"Hi Hermione."

**I'm back!**

**I hope this one will be a bit quicker, I know it was a chapter kind of described to death but it has been from the pent up writing have been doing myself that all needed to explained to death. **

**I hope you enjoy this story, not the typical Weasley bashing, a slight biased towards Ron, but hey not all of us can get along with the idiot Weasley. Well anyways, it will get lighter, brighter and there will be a friendship between Harry and Draco, as well as Astoria. I am going slightly cannon because of how I wanted a wider character base. **

**Thanks again for giving it the time, wait till next and it will be light and airy… I hope my fingers seem to want drama. **


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